~'•'~ Universe || World Trigger x OCs ~'•'~

⋆˚✿˖° Chapter 6 ⋆˚✿˖°

𓆝 𓆞 𓆝 𓆞

The ocean churned where the Ilgar had moments ago been a menacing presence in the sky. From a safe distance, two silhouetted figures watched the dark shape disappear beneath the waves, the rhythmic crash of waves a counterpoint to the lingering tension in the air. One figure, easily identifiable even from afar, was a young man. His shoulder-length, bright blonde hair, styled with a loose, almost careless wave, was a stark contrast to the dark, almost severe lines of his attire.  He wore a long, dark overcoat, possibly black, that fell almost to his knees, concealing a navy blue collared shirt and dark cargo pants beneath.  A dark cap shadowed his face, partially obscuring his features, and white gloves covered his hands.  Dark laced boots peeked out from beneath the hem of his coat, completing a look that was both stylish and subtly practical.  Just moments before, he had been wielding a weapon, but now his clothing had shifted back to his usual, more casual pajamas.

Beside him, a girl let out a long, slow breath, the tension visibly leaving her shoulders.  The sight of the Ilgar finally subdued seemed to have released a palpable weight from her.

"That was close," she said, her voice a soft murmur against the sounds of the waves.  She turned to the young man, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and admiration.  "Nice one, Ku! You aimed perfectly in the middle! You haven't changed one bit!"

Ku remained silent for a beat, his gaze still fixed on the turbulent water.  Then, he nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression settling on his face.  "Mhm. It's been so long since I've used my trigger," he admitted, his voice low. "It feels… lacking.  Like something's missing."  His tone held a hint of dissatisfaction, a subtle undercurrent of frustration beneath the calm exterior.

Miku, the girl beside him, frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Eh? Really? It didn't look like that at all.  You took it down perfectly!"

Ku shrugged, a slight movement barely perceptible in the fading light. "Mhm.  I just feel… off. Like something's missing from the connection, the flow."

Miku sighed, her gaze drifting to his shoulder.  "Maybe you're just tired? That injury of yours… it looks like it reopened," she pointed out gently, her voice laced with concern.  A fresh stain of blood marred the fabric of his pajama top, a stark crimson against the dark material.

Ku glanced at his shoulder, a barely perceptible grimace fleeting across his face. "Oh, it did?  Right. Let's go inside. It's starting to hurt."  His voice held no hint of urgency.

Panic flickered in Miku's eyes as she remembered something, "Ah, I remember we only have one bandage left! But I haven't finished making that things yet so I can't leave it alone too…"

Ku waved a hand dismissively.  "It's fine. I'll buy more after you bandage me."

"A-are you sure? You're the injured one!" Miku protested, but her voice lacked conviction.

Ku started walking towards their base, his pace unhurried. "It's fine. My hands aren't doing the walking, and I have things to do tonight anyway, so I don't think I'll be sleeping much."

Miku sighed, still worried but resigned to his casual attitude. "Fine. But be careful. I really can't afford to see you injured again."

𓆝 𓆞 𓆝 𓆞

Inside, the small, sparsely furnished room felt both cramped and comforting. Miku, her brow furrowed in concentration, dabbed at Ku’s shoulder wound with a damp cloth, the faint scent of antiseptic hanging in the air.  The blood, thankfully not profuse, had already begun to clot, but the ragged edges of the tear in his skin spoke of a deeper injury.